The History of Boring Days
by TeenageMutantNinjaHamster
Summary: Nothing is happening today, and Michelangelo is on the verge of dying of bordom. Will he find something exciting to do before he completely loses it? ONESHOT.


This is what happens after an extremely uneventful day. I poor my bored-ness on the guys just because I can.

TMNT © Mirage

Pac-man © whoever owns him.

Spongebob © Nickelodeon

Story © TMNH

I'm starting to think some days are slow just because the world wants them to be. Hey, maybe the world is just some giant life and we're all its playthings. Who knows? You know I'm bored when I start thinking about stuff like this.

Normally I'd be okay with an uneventful day like today. You know, no Foot ninja attacks during patrols, no Bishop bent on dissecting us. Sometimes its good to have a day when your life isn't constantly in danger. It's just so _boring_. There's absolutely nothing on TV, and I've beaten my high score on every game I own. Except the Pac-man game I'm playing right now. Its that one where everyone is computer generated and Pac-man looks like Spongebob rolled into a ball. But I've beaten that one so many times that the score is so high, and I don't even like it anymore.

Raph lumbers in the exact moment a ghost nabs me. I sigh. The lack of action is getting on his nerves too, only when Raph's irritated about something, he takes it out on everything from inanimate objects, to muggers, to the rest of us. Except there haven't been many muggers out today, and by the sweat on his forehead I can tell he's already abused his punching bag for the day.

So that leaves beating on his bros. Which, apparently, is me this time. Since ignoring him will probably peeve him off more, and that would be unheard of in my Mikeyness, I decide to talk to him.

"Wanna play me?" I ask, even though I'm pretty sure this game doesn't have multiplayer.

He just grunts. Classic Raph. I sigh again as I'm knocked of a ledge by some adversary I won't even try to name.

"You ever wonder why the call him Pac-man?" I ask.

He just looks at me. I wonder if he's heard a word I've said. Raph pretty good at ignoring people. You don't realize it either, because when he is listening to you, he gives you the same bored, uncaring look as he does when he's not.

I sigh again. It's becoming involuntary. Not only is this game the most boring game in the history of boring games, but now Raph is ignoring me, and I'm not in the mood to try and get his attention. At least he's not chasing me around the Lair, me running for the sake of dear life.

Yeah. Let's go with that.

At this point, Don has walked out of his lab. Apparently, whatever he'd been working on had blown up in his face. No, really. There's soot on his brow and everything.

He notices me looking at him as he gets a towel to wipe his face. I must look curious or something because he just says "Don't ask," and walks back into the lab.

So Raph is being silent Raph, Donnie's playing mechanic, I'm bored out of my mind, and I can't help wondering what Leo's doing. Probably meditating or something. But once again, I don't care enough to go find out.

I pause the game, and get up and walk towards Don's lab. Maybe I can help him with whatever he's doing. _Yeah, right._ Maybe I can laugh at him for blowing it up. _That's more like it._

By the time I poke my head through the door, Donnie's cleaned up most of the wreckage. It's pretty much destroyed beyond recognition, whatever it was. And now, all that remains is the black splotch where the thing spent its last moments.

"Have an argument with your Thingamajig, Don?" I ask with a grin.

He shoots me a look. I've been given many dirty looks in my life. With a bro like Raph, it's easy to handle what Don can muster up.

"I must have overloaded the circuits, somehow," he says, partly to me, partly to himself, "Or maybe-"

"Dude, I fell asleep at 'circuits'," I say. I let out a long snore, which earns me another look. This is the most fun I've had all day. Which is pretty sad.

"Okay," Don says, "Either help me by cleaning up the soot mark, or get out."

"Aye aye, Donatello!" I salute and pick up the towel he'd used earlier.

"Thanks, Mikey," he says when I've finished, "I think if I touch anymore soot, my hands are going to start turning black."

I laugh as the image of Donatello trying to paint his stained black hands olive green pops into my head.

If either of us were going to say anything more, it was cut of by shouting in the living room.

"I just said 'get up and do something useful,' Raph!?"

"Why can't you just let me do what I'm doin'!?"

"You weren't doing _anything_!"

Don and I step out of the lab to see what the commotion is about. Like we hadn't already guessed. Leo and Raph shouting at each other from a few feet apart. The subject went from Raph being lazy and Leo minding other people's business, to Raph's temper and Leo's "Mother Hen" attitude in less than ten seconds. In other words, Same ol' same ol'.

Don exchanges a look with me. We're thinking the same thing.

_Oh well,_ I think, _At least now something interesting might happen._

***


End file.
